


What Is 'Bromance'?

by AdelineAround



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bathroom Sex, Bottom Gavin, Cunnilingus, Dildos, Gavin Reed has a dildo named Dragon, Gavin Reed is a little shit, Innocent RK900, Love Bites, M/M, Masturbation, Maybe - Freeform, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Top RK900, Trans Gavin Reed, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 22:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15447426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelineAround/pseuds/AdelineAround
Summary: Gavin Reed gets a new work partner, RK900. RK900 has a question that only Gavin can answer.





	What Is 'Bromance'?

**Author's Note:**

> Tonight, on Jeopardy: the category is "gay androids".  
> Just kidding. Gavin and RK900 are on my top list of ships for D:BH.  
>  _Forewarning: Gavin is said to have a crush on Connor | RK800 in this fic. Just so you know. Words “cocklet” and “nub” used in terms of genitalia._

“I’m not gonna do it, Fowler! Not even when Hell freezes the _fuck_ over,”

Gavin Reed locks his jaw, glaring daggers at his boss. This has to be a hoax, he thinks. CyberLife was cancelled after the android revolution. So, that begs the question: what the actual fuck is a new tin man doing in the Detroit City Police Department?

“Like shit, you will, Reed,” Fowler delivers Gavin the same aggressive attitude. “RK900 is out of a job, and his qualifications are more than enough to hire him.”

Gavin’s eyes flick from Fowler’s face to the RK900 model’s, then back to his boss. He cannot believe this. RK900 looks exactly like the infamous Connor, his predecessor, only sterner. His thick, upturned collar makes him look like a prick. There is no way Gavin wants to hang around Connor, let alone two.

“That doesn’t mean jack-squat,” Gavin protests, “I am _not_ letting little Ken Doll pair up with me.”

Fowler sighs tiredly. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he says, “This isn’t a matter of what you allow and don’t allow, detective Reed. You are the only one who has had the most encounters with deviant androids and the like within the past year, with the exception of lieutenant Anderson.

“That being said, Anderson already has an android for a partner. So, he can’t have another. I’m sorry, Gavin, but you’re in no position to decline.”

“Like fuck I can,” grumbles Gavin, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You can decline, though,” RK900 pipes up, words contradicting Fowler’s. “However, if you do, you risk the chance of staying employed with the Detroit City Police Department.”

Fowler nods solemnly. “He’s right, Gavin. If you don’t accept RK900 as your work partner, you can consider your employment terminated.”

Gavin gawks at Fowler and the tin can of a man. They could not do this to him, could they?

“That’s illegal or something,” he growls. Please say yes, he prays. “Right?”

“Actually, no,” RK900 proceeds to prove Gavin wrong. “It is safer to have an android companion than without. That being said, I do not believe you have even a human partner to work with,”

“So what’s it going to be?” Fowler looks so tired. “Take RK900 as your partner, or you’re off my team.”

Shit. Shit, shit shit. Gavin wants to scream. He still hates androids, thinks they’re nothing but walking computers that like to mock him with their intelligence. They flaunt their perfection while Gavin wallows in his… less than perfect life. Fuck them. It’s hard to convince himself that everything in the past has led him to a better place now, especially when RK900 is practically drilling holes into him with his ever cool, laser-focused blue stare.

Gavin breathes through his nose. Inhale, exhale, and repeat. He needs to calm down and make the best decision for his future self.

“I…” He glances over at the upgraded Connor clone. “Fine. I actually need this job to live, unlike Ken Doll here.”

RK900 quirks a brow, but says nothing against Gavin’s snide remark.

Relieved, Fowler shoos them away, “Thank you. Now, show him the ropes and actually do some work this week.”

Gavin sputters; he cannot believe his boss just threw him under the bus before telling him to get out. Grumbling swears under his breath, Gavin broods as he makes his way back to his desk. He takes a seat, only noticing that Connor 2.0 stands at his side like a lost puppy. His facial expression has slackened up a bit, making him seem a little less daunting than in Fowler’s office. It is _kind of cute_.

Damn it. Gavin scolds himself for allowing his sexuality get in the way. Sure, whomever the RKx00 androids have been modeled after must be good-looking, but now is not the time nor the place to be thinking that RK900, the Connor look-alike, is _cute_. Not now, not ever, Gavin scowls… unless he’s in bed. He hates CyberLife androids… maybe.

It is not too long before lieutenant Hank Anderson and his little dolly show up. Hank looks like he is in a particularly good mood for someone who does not usually make it to the office until around noon most days. Connor must have done something to him- for him. As if to prove Gavin right, the RK800 model bounds behind Hank, taking a seat next to the man while trying to fix his sloppily put-together business tie. So unlike Connor, the impeccable RK800 android sent by CyberLife.

Definitely, Connor did something _with_ Hank.

“Disgusting,” Gavin looks away from the pair, faking a grimace. He will never accept how Hank can get off with a walking Fleshlight named Connor.

“If you continue to frown like that, detective, your skin will set fault lines along your nose and mouth area,” RK900, the tin man, speaks.

Gavin rolls his eyes, turning to his new partner. “You see this, RK?” Pointing to his chin, he then proceeds to draw back his head and jaw, accentuating skin there in a mock double chin. His scruff itches at his contacting skin. “I already have wrinkles and flaws. I don’t need a perfectly designed plastic doll like you to tell me I’m getting old and saggy like Hank. Thank you very much.”

“I was doing no such thing,” RK900 defends himself.

“Oh yeah?” Because that’s totally the case, Gavin did not say. “Tell me, are all deviants cocky like you? Hell, are all androids considered deviant now?”

RK900 seems to ponder the detective’s questions for a moment. Then, finally, he answers, “It is safe to say that almost all androids in Detroit, Michigan are declared ‘deviant’. As for being cocky, I would say you could beat me with your sharp words in a heartbeat.”

Gavin looks at the android, flabbergasted. Before he can reply, though, Hank is sauntering up to them, a smirk playing on his rugged face.

“Looks like Connor isn’t the only android around here anymore,” he says, a smug tone in his voice. Gavin hates it with a passion. “Take a glimpse, Connor. He looks just like you.”

Connor blinks rapidly, sidling up next to Hank. He looks surprised and maybe a little troubled, as his hand grips the fabric of Hank’s jacket before realizing what he is doing; he releases it and drops his hand in an instant. What Gavin would do to switch places with Hank at this moment.

Wait, no. Gavin would not even dare to do that… would he?

Stupid hormones, making him horny at work, Gavin thinks.

“RK900, I thought Hank killed you,” he finally says, face neutral.

RK900 straightens his spine, looking so much taller than his predecessor. It’s unfair. “It’s a good thing I can transfer my memories into a undamaged model. I thought surely you died while trying to battle against Amanda,” He smiles, then, which Gavin finds quite concerning. “But here we are. I’m as much alive as you are,”

Hank sniffs, attempting to dispel the tension in the air. “As much as we’d love to chat, Connor and I have a case to follow up on. Isn’t that right, Connor?” He’s telling Connor what to do; Gavin sees right through Hank’s smoke screen. He narrows his eyes when the man continues, “It’s good to meet you again, RK900. You’d better pick a name for yourself, or Gavin will find something derogatory for you.”

“Shut up and leave already,” Gavin gripes. He takes out his tablet, opens up his notepad app, and scribbles furiously on it. He wishes he could scribble all over Hank’s face. He doesn’t bother looking at Connor.

Hank laughs off Gavin’s bad attitude, like always, “We’re going,” he says. “Oh, and Gavin, congratulations on your new partner.”

“Congratulation not accepted,” Gavin grumbles after the lieutenant and his bot leave.

He doesn’t understand why Hank likes to poke him with a burning stick. Is it because they butt heads most days? Or perhaps it is some sort of messed up rivalry between each other. Either way, Gavin hates tolerating lieutenant Anderson.

“Why should I have to pick a name, detective?” RK900 ponders, not even irked that Gavin is in a bad mood. “You can say my model number just fine.”

“Yeah, which, quite frankly, sounds like a piece of shit,” Gavin retorts, not giving a second thought. “Hank knows me too well, though. You either come up with a _human_ name, or I will start calling you whatever I come up with. You got that, tin man?”

RK900 shows that he is upset for only a split second. “Understood, detective Dickhead.” he responds with a bright smile.

Gavin sees hot red. “What the _fuck_ did you just call me?” He jumps to his feet, ready to brawl. This undignified android will be taught not to call Gavin names, even if Gavin breaks his own fist from punching the living shit out of RK900.

“Reed! Sit your ass down and do your work, or you’ll be put on probation,” Fowler shouts from his office, door wide open. He definitely heard everything happening.

“Ugh,”

Gavin clenches his jaw and obeys, finding a report to file. When RK900 stands, unmoving, for the next half hour, Gavin finally asks, “Aren’t you gonna, I don’t know, like, sit down or something?” When RK900 merely stares back at him, Gavin whips his arm out to his side, scooting back a spare chair for the android to sit in. “Don’t just stand there. You’re making me nervous.”

Almost reluctantly, the android takes a seat, still looking at Gavin.

“What?” Gavin glares at RK900. “You thinking my face is pretty, or are you actually working in your brain right now?”

“Both, actually,” RK900 responds with impeccable delivery. He does not hesitate even once.

Gavin furrows his brow. He will not let RK900 get to him like that, even as heat rushes to his cheeks. Did this bot really just hit on him? Smooth.

“Whatever. Just, go through the database and find as much as you can about the Oklahoma State Penitentiary inmate, number 252A.” He tries not to steal glances at his new partner, admiring his gorgeously structured face. Oh lord.

It is going to be a long shift in the office. Gavin is going to need a whole lot of smoke breaks in between.

Good luck, he mourns inwardly.

* * *

Gavin cannot seem to sleep that night. He is constantly shifting positions in his lonely bed, occasionally picking up his charging phone to scroll through his social media feeds; maybe read an article here and there. Nothing helps him relax, and he groans with frustration.

It looks like there is no other option but to bring out the Last Resort (™).

Gavin blushes at the thought, but allows himself to kick off the sheets, turning on the lamp by his bedside. Grabbing his glasses, as he wears contacts in the day, he fumbles with it before putting them on to see clearly.

Now, where did Gavin put the Last Resort (™) again? He just hopes he cleaned it the last time he played with it. On his knees, Gavin locates the brown suitcase under his bed, unhooking the clasps and shoving it open.

There it is. It still looks pristine. Sterile, too.

He takes the medium-sized dildo in his hands, inspecting it for any unsanitized patches but, thankfully, finds none. He looks at the clock, noting how late it is. He has work in the morning. Perhaps, Gavin should use a condom this time, as it will save him a messy clean up after. He peels open a package, rolling the protection over it.

Settling back into bed, Gavin reaches down to pull off his boxers with gusto.

“Okay, Dragon,” he talks to his dildo nicknamed Dragon. He thumbs over the ribbed surface. “Do your magic.”

One minute, he is irritable and cannot sleep. The next, Gavin is quite literally _soaking_ , rubbing Dragon over and along his mound. He tips his head back, groaning aloud.

How long has it been since he had last jerked off? He does not recall, as the past few months have been extremely busy at work. Gavin feels that he needs more downtime, contrary to what Fowler believes.

Let him not think about his boss while masturbating; he shudders at the thought. Gavin works a finger around his sensitive nub, his “cocklet” he calls it, the flesh pink and prominent between his legs.

“Ah,” Gavin savors each swipe of his finger. The blunt tip of his dildo is then placed at his front entrance, pressing but not yet entering. Gavin is certain he is dripping like a faucet upon it.

He conjures brown, doe-like eyes staring at him in his imagination, watching his every move. Gavin chews on his lower lip then, adding more pressure to Dragon and gasping when the head of the dildo finally begins to pop in.

“Fuck,” he says into the now-warm air.

Canting his hips, Gavin adjusts the angle until the dildo is securely within him, splitting his folds wide. They drool around it in arousal, his slick making it so much easier to move Dragon in and out of himself.

Taking the hand that is teasing his cocklet, he reaches toward his chest, pinching the peaked nipples there in a sigh of pleasure. He loves this; imagines his hands as someone else’s.

There are eyes he is imagining that connect to a sharp face, with an equally paper-slicing jawline. Brown hair is pushed back casually, yet neatly, neater than Gavin’s will ever be.

“Connor,” Gavin pumps the dildo harder into himself, slick squishing around it.

It sounds debauched, the name that flies out of Gavin’s mouth and into the humid air around him. He burns in shame, but is unwilling to stop fantasizing. In his mind’s eye, he can see the android observing his every move, hands roaming the expanse of Gavin’s chest and tracing along the now faint scars under his pectorals. Maybe he’d even put a finger or three into the detective’s mouth, pry open his jaw and massage Gavin’s tongue with his fingertips. Gavin moans at the thought. Would he finger Gavin before sticking Dragon in? Or would he know nothing about sex, and give Gavin the reins?

Connor is a guilty name that belongs to an even guiltier crush of Gavin’s. At first, he had thought to hate the detective android. However, with Connor being Connor, he quickly became Gavin’s obsession; that obsession morphed into a crush thereafter.

Dragon the dildo is good at hitting some of his spots, but tonight seems different. As soon as he thinks he is about to come, the pleasure plateaus until he is no longer at the peak of release.

“Shit,” Gavin curses, free hand back to stroking his cocklet. He slams Dragon in and out of his hole with no finesse. Maybe if he is rough with himself, he can finally get off.

He wills himself to fantasize Connor kissing him, driving the dildo harder and harder into his front hole. Connor leaves bite marks all along his neck, down the column of his throat, and on his clavicle. It hurts so good.

Gavin wants more. More hurt, more pleasure; a cocktail of both would drive him mad.

Then, imaginary Connor warps into something… more. Darker, deeper; the atmosphere rolling off the android changes suddenly, and he becomes taller and more demanding.

“You’ll be a good boy for me, won’t you?” he would ask, hand pushing down where Gavin’s bladder is.

Gavin reflects his fantasy, screaming out when he swears he can _feel_ Dragon rubbing up against his inner walls. It feels so damn good.

“Yes,” he says unconsciously. He thrusts the dildo in to the hilt, yelling out a colorful string of curses when the tip brushes against his cervix. “Let me come. Let me come, please.”

He wants this, needs to orgasm so badly. Gavin whines in the back of his throat, searching for more imagery his fantasy will provide.

“Connor?”

But those brown eyes are no longer a warm chocolate shade. No, instead they have warped, losing all melanin from their irises, staring him down in an icy blue that chills him to the soul, yet catches Gavin on fire at the same time. It only takes a second to realize it is RK900 he is thinking about now.

He cannot help himself, shoving the dildo in and out at a wrist-breaking pace.

“Come for me,” RK900 would demand him to find ecstasy, not lead him to it. It should offend him, insult him, Gavin thinks. But, hell, if he isn’t so damn aroused by that...

A lightning bolt of pleasure zaps through the detective, all of his muscles drawing taut. The sounds he makes are inhuman, closer to an animalistic growl than a moan. Gavin clenches down hard around the dildo, his hamstrings straining as he splays his legs on the bed. The arousal in his belly seems to unknot itself, unwinding and uncoiling.

He offers another raspy scream as his entrance flutters around Dragon, slick oozing from him like a fountain now. Gavin jerks every so often, riding the waves of his orgasm. There is sudden relief, sudden tiredness that sweeps through his system quite slowly. Maybe he might get some sleep after this.

“God damnit,”

Gavin comes to from his ecstasy, panting hard. Dislodging the dildo from himself, he throws it across the room in frustration. He does not feel sleepy or relaxed anymore. His mind is reeling with worry.

Gavin Reed, the one who cannot tolerate androids, has just jacked off to his new work partner, RK900.

* * *

“You look tired, detective,” RK900 declares from his seat.

Gavin groans inwardly. Of course, he is fucking tired. Had he not wanked last night, he would not have to deal with his shameful fantasies. Above all else, that is what kept Gavin up until the early hours of the morning. He did not get any rest whatsoever.

“Mind your own goddamn business, Ken Doll,” he snarls at RK900.

“But detective,” the android says.

“No ifs, ands or butts, RK,” Gavin growls out. “I’m not in the mood today.”

“You’re not in the mood any day,”

When Gavin looks up, Hank is hovering by his desk with his faithful robocop Connor.

“What do you want now, Anderson?” Could this day get any worse? Gavin glances at the time- not even half past nine and the dynamic duo is already pestering him.

“Just wanted to ask if you have the paperwork for our recent joined case at the Eden Club,” is what Hank’s excuse is.

“I dropped it off with Fowler before you arrived,” RK900 is the one to speak for both himself and Gavin. There is a swell of pride that runs through the detective, though he denies it, when RK900 continues, “Maybe if you weren’t doing the Hanky Panky before you left for the office, you would have been here at an acceptable time.”

Hank sputters on the coffee he is sipping now, earning a worried look from Connor. “The Hanky Panky- Gavin,” he finally rasps, still recovering his drink. “You better stop teaching RK900 any of your… wit, or I’ll have two Gavins to deal with,”

“And that wouldn’t be beneficial for our already existing bromance,” adds Connor, eyeing the other android warily.

“Whatever,” Gavin rolls his eyes, but agrees with Connor silently. He needs to get a grip, if he wants to keep a parasocial relationship with an imaginary Connor… not RK900. He wills himself not to get hot in the apples of his cheeks.

“What is ‘bromance’?” RK900 has the audacity to ask.

“‘What is bromance’, what in the fresh h-” Hank raises his brows. “You know what, I think I’m better off letting ol’ RK figure that one out for himself,” He is quick to announce, “C’mon, Connor.” He pulls Connor away, leaving Gavin and RK900 alone once again.

“Okay,” Gavin finally says under his breath, not sure what else to conjure from his mouth. He is so over Hank and Connor.

RK900, however, is still looking for answers. “Detective Reed, you never answered my question. What is ‘bromance’?”

Gavin must resist rolling his eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he bites. When RK900 remains unflustered, he adds, “You’ve got a brain. Go search it up for yourself, RK.” That should put the damn dolly in his place.

However, contrary to what Gavin expects, RK900 does not let up.

“No, detective,” The android pushes, “I want to know what the term ‘bromance’ means to you.”

He burns holes into Gavin’s face with that stare of his, so cold and calculated that it brings Gavin’s memories of last night. He purses his lips together in remembrance; if he does not get himself under control, things could get real awkward in a matter of seconds. 

The first thing that pops into his mind is the old vine: _When there’s too much drama at school, all you gotta do is… walk away-ay-ay._ He was, what, sixteen when he first saw the video clip?

Gavin shakes his head, even though walking away might be a good idea in this case. He consults his conscience, but he soon realizes there is none left in his brain. Fantastic.

“No, RK,” he growls his warning, like he is reprimanding a dog who did wrong. “I’m going to use the bathroom… and don’t even think about following me.”

Dashing to the men’s room before RK900 can reply, Gavin locks himself into a stall and bangs his head against one of the divider panels. He cannot believe he just ran away, and from a robo-detective at that. He looks down at his pants; he bets his boxers are fucking soaked. How pathetic is he for becoming such a horndog over RK900’s little antics?

Gavin sighs. He needs to… do something other than jack off in the men’s bathroom at work. But, before he can think about opening the stall door, Gavin hears someone rustle into the bathroom. Shit.

“Detective?” calls RK900. It _has_ to be him; he sounds just like Connor, but Connor is glued to Hank’s side right now. “I know you’re in here.”

 _Shit_. Gavin does his best to be a ninja, balancing on the toilet seat. Thankfully, he has bought some time not revealing where he is in the bathroom; if RK900 cannot see his feet on the ground, then Gavin might have a chance at escaping. He bates his breath. Maybe he can try and do what Connor does, and pre-construct a route. 

“Detective Reed,” RK900 says, his voice getting closer and closer. Gavin can hear him slamming each stall door open one by one. “Where are you?” Condemn him and his pleasant tone of voice to hell.

C’mon, think, Gavin; he can berate himself later. Right now, he needs a way out. RK900 is designed to seek out deviants, even better than Connor. Gavin’s chances of escaping are slim. Still, he must find a way out.

 _Blam!_ Another stall door is shoved open. RK900 is coming for him.

_Blam!!_

_BANG!_

His toilet stall is next. Gavin gulps. His heart is in his throat, pounding a million beats per minute. He’s gotta… he’s gotta get… into the other stall and flee for his dear life.

_SLAM!!_

With all his might, Gavin lifts his foot, placing it on the bath tissue dispenser. He uses it as a lever to hoist himself up, and heaves himself over the bathroom stall wall, barely missing the porcelain throne and landing hard on the cold, tiled floor. 

Damn. He was doing so well, too. Gavin crashes to the ground, shoulders crunching hard. Pain rushes through his body, but adrenaline is still strong with him. He scrambles to his feet, but RK900 is already there, standing in front of him like a brooding parent.

“Out of my way!” Gavin mouths the android off, ducking to the side, in hopes of running away.

Suddenly, a firm grabs the back of his shirt, taking hold of him until Gavin is treading air; he is thrust into the tile wall behind him. His head ricochets against the surface with a sickening crack as his vision spins from the trauma. He would not be surprised if the impact caused him a concussion.

RK900 pins him to the wall, towering over him so much that it is nothing if not dominant. Gavin wills his not to buckle.

This is so messed up; he clenches his jaw. His pants are so drenched by now that it is uncomfortable to stand in. Something about the chase has got him even more horny. He needs to do something about it, and soon.

“You made that so much more difficult for yourself, Gavin,” RK900 speaks, and Gavin bites back a moan gurgling from his throat. “Why did you try to run, when all I did was ask a simple question?”

Gavin turns his head to the side, unwilling to look into RK900’s scrutinizing gaze. He huffs indignantly.

“What is it that sets you off?” the android keeps talking. “Is it when I say ‘bromance’? Do you have a problem with the fact that I do not know what it means?”

“No,” spits Gavin. It’s the truth.

“Then, do tell me, what is it that gets you ticking like this?” RK900 has no filter when it comes to talking, “Tell me, is ‘bromance’ what you and Connor have between each other? Do you… like him, Gavin?”

Red flushes into Gavin’s cheeks then. How the hell does this walking piece of titanium steel know that he has a crush on fucking Connor? Gavin fixes his eyes upon a hand dryer, unable to muster up a response.

“Oh,” He hears RK900 iterate while putting a flat palm over Gavin’s left pectoral. “Your pulse just spiked.” There is a certain smugness that sounds like an echo of Hank’s from the other day, and Gavin grinds his molars at the thought in frustration. “I think you _do_ have a crush on Connor,”

“That’s not.. Hey!” Gavin gasps when RK900 fucking _squeezes_ his chest. He yelps in surprise, head whipping around to stare at the android with wide, shocked eyes.

RK900 lifts his eyebrows, as if he is genuinely surprised at the detective’s reaction. The surprise is then replaced with his evercool, unaffected expression. “I’ll ask again. What is ‘bromance’, detective?”

Gavin scowls… Wait, what is he doing, expecting more than a little pec squeeze from this clueless, drilled-together hunk of metal?

_Being drilled sounds good right about now._

Fuck! Gavin needs to get a grip on his libido. He tries to shut his legs together, but RK900 stops him, his other inhumanly strong hand holding back Gavin’s pelvis. The detective whimpers then. He can practically _smell_ the arousal dripping down his inner thighs like morning dew.

“Is this what ‘bromance’ means, Gavin? Meaning that you _like_ someone who is identified as the same gender?” RK900 presses harder, earning a little mewl from the man. “Your stats are elevating quite dramatically, detective.”

“Shut the hell up, RK900,” Gavin pants out, though it is not the truth.

The damn android chuckles, no, _giggles_. He leans in closer, “Do you really want me to stop talking?” His lips draw near the shell of Gavin’s ear. “Or is there an underlying command behind the phrase ‘shut the hell up’?”

The tin man is really testing him now. Gavin groans as the grip on both his chest and hip get tighter. How easy would it be to succumb to his horny side; give in and take whatever this RK900 model can offer? Does he want to know what it would be like to come while looking at a perfect replica of Connor’s face?

He scrunches up his face. “Fuck. You.”

Keep up your guard, Gavin thinks. Make him work for information, if he really wants it. He’s just a fucking machine.

RK900 grins. “I’m sure we can arrange to have that happen, Gavin, if you really want.”

“What?”

“You’re dampening your pants, detective,” How observant Connor’s successor seems to be. RK900 frees up Gavin’s hip, shoving a hand between the man’s legs. His fingers probe, feeling the now-soaking fabric of Gavin’s pants. “Are you,” A pause. Gavin sweats. “What they call ‘turned on’?”

One of RK900’s fingertips brush steadily over Gavin’s mound.

“Ah,” Gavin cannot contain the moan that escapes him.

“What was that?” RK900 looks down, curious.

“Nothing,”

“That wasn’t just _nothing_ , detective,” RK900 is so damn smart; Gavin hates it. The android’s simulated breaths whispering over Gavin’s ear so perfectly, enough to make the man weak. “Tell me, detective. What did I do? What do I do? I am still a virgin when it comes to all this…” He strokes Gavin in the same spot again to emphasize what he is getting at.

Pleasure strikes throughout Gavin’s body, rendering him helpless. There is something primal within him that _wants this_ , to take advantage of the situation in the bathroom. Sacrifice his pride and give into his carnal desires.

Gavin can feel his _soul_ shattering within him.

“Touch me,” Gavin breathes. “My god, just touch me.”

“Like this?” RK900 wiggles his fingers along Gavin’s fly, then lower, over his mound and dripping center.

Teasing has never felt this good before. Gavin bites his lower lip and nods. He needs his pants off. Now. Screw anyone who walks in on RK900 and him. He doesn’t care about anything more than being taken on the cold floor right now.

“Yes, fuck,” he says, desperation clear in his voice. “Make me come,”

But, RK900, who was not designed to be a sex bot, does not know how to make Gavin come. “How, detective? Help me. Guide me.”

With a frustrated grunt, Gavin pushes the android back, hands trembling as he undoes his work pants. He is so aroused, he has the faintest of tears brimming the corners of his eyes. A sense of panic hits him as he reaches for the waistband of his boxers, though. What if his… down there… is not what RK900 is expecting? What if it completely throws off the mood they have right now? What if Gavin becomes disgusted with himself?

There is a million things that could go wrong as soon as Gavin is bare, but he bites the bullet and pulls his underwear down in a hurry. It is better to get it over with than to keep dwelling on what ifs.

Gavin kicks off the offending clothing, leaning back on the wall for support. He waits for RK900 to walk away, show him anything other than the curious look he is giving the detective right now.

And waits.

And waits, until there is a hand between his legs again, digit sliding smoothly through Gavin’s wet lips. It bumps the man’s sensitive nub, pleasure quaking in his spine.

“Detective,” the android breaks the deafening silence. “You seem to be very sensitive here.” As if to give an example, RK900’s finger circles Gavin’s nub again, watching the man grow slicker and slicker with each pass. “What else is there to this?”

Lord, he sounds genuinely clueless, like a child discovering the properties of non-Newtonian fluids. He looks cute. Gavin fights back a laugh, but he smiles nonetheless.

“Find out for yourself, dipshit,” He reaches up, Gavin’s hand interlacing with the silky soft locks of RK900’s brown hair. “Down on your knees,” he pleads more than commands.

When RK900 obeys, slinking down to kneel in front of Gavin, the sight is nothing short of debauched. Gavin loves it; wants to mess up the scene like he would naturally with his crude, unfiltered front he presents. Those cold blue eyes take in Gavin’s very being, locking with the detective’s own.

“What shall I do now?” RK900 inquires for another action.

Gavin stutters, tightening his hold on the android’s hair, “Come forward. Stick your tongue out.” He parts his legs, widening his stance.

The atmosphere is the most heady in the bathroom now, with RK900’s mouth so fucking close to Gavin’s mound. Gavin pulls him to it, until RK900’s nose is buried in the thick garden of pubic hair Gavin has grown. The android never takes his off of Gavin as he unravels his tongue and takes the first lick at the man’s puffy lips.

“Ohh, _fuck_ ,” Gavin moans, thighs already quivering. The feeling is exquisite; a little dry, unlike a normal human tongue, but amazing nonetheless. “Yes, more. Keep doing that.”

With a gurgle, RK900 swipes his artificial tongue back and forth; around Gavin’s nub, collecting the viscous nectar that drips from the detective’s soft center. Gavin throws his head back, banging it against the hard wall on purpose this time. He moans louder when RK900 adjusts his angle and begins to dig his tongue deeper, farther.

How long is this android’s oral muscle anyway? Gavin cannot estimate, nor can he guess, as RK900’s artificial dorsum brushes along his labia, the textured surface creating sparks of the greatest ecstasy. Never has Gavin felt like this during a sexual act. He loves it. He craves for more, pushing his mound against RK900’s tongue as if he could choke the robot. The idea of suffocating him brings an excited jolt to Gavin’s system; maybe he can arrange for that another time.

Then, unexpectedly, RK900’s tongue slithers its way to breach Gavin’s front entrance.

“Oh my god,” Gavin swallows in gulps of air, muscles clenching unconsciously. Yes, this is perfect. “Put a finger in me,” he says, realizing he is still in control. 

He almost screams when not one, but two digits enter him, scissoring him while a tongue wiggles round and round. The action elicits the most messy of sounds, sloppy and wet squishing from Gavin’s hole. It fills the bathroom, echoing off the toilet stalls themselves, aimed for both Gavin’s and RK900’s ears so they may hear the mess they are creating.

“RK, RK,” Gavin moans.

His passage is tightening up. With being this pent up, he is not going to last very long. He peers down at RK900. Judging on the android’s pants, of what looks to be quite uncomfortable, Gavin figures that he is not the only one who will blow his load soon.

“Curl your-” Before he can finish his request, RK900 crooks his fingers, jabbing them into the meat of Gavin’s passage. “Yes! There!”

Fuck, fuck. Gavin’s throat constricts, burning from the excessive oxygen he is inhaling and exhaling from his lungs. His chest heaves up and down, sweat beginning to bead on his now clammy forehead. RK900 switches his technique again, focusing on licking Gavin’s nub instead of his entrance. He adds pressure, sucking on it with great strength.

“RK!” Gavin shrieks, and then he is coming.

It is like his soul is being siphoned through a straw as Gavin reaches his peak. His body spasms, vision cloudy with endorphins. He feels as if he is going to double over, fall onto RK900 and pass out from the sheer satisfaction. The tips of his ears are burning, as if someone has taken a lighter to them. His mind is melting like ice cream in the heat. It feels undeniably good; much needed gratification.

When Gavin catches his breath, he is being pushed against the wall once again, this time facing the tiles instead of slamming the back of his head on them.

“What-” His eyes widen when he hears a zipper come undone, something blunt lining up with his hole. “RK, no,”

Pushing in, RK900 knocks the regained breath from Gavin.

“Too much!” Oh god, it’s too much, Gavin thinks, bracing himself with straining arms. RK900 is brutal in his thrusts, his thick cock splitting Gavin more open than Dragon, the dildo, ever could. “It’s too much, RK. Please,”

Just then, RK900’s member reaches a place so far within Gavin that it sends him reeling. Gavin hiccups, hands scrabbling at the wall for purchase, for _anything_. RK900 hits that spot again. Gavin absolutely wails.

“Your core is tightening again, detective,” RK900 sounds calm and collected as ever, but the simulated breaths heave just a little harder. Gavin is glad that it is not just him feeling the effects of pleasure. “Is this what you wanted Connor to do to you? To _fuck_ you like this, when you know that his _successor_ is much better at _everything_ ,”

“Shut the fuck up, and _fuck me_!” Gavin yells but, as if to spite him, RK900 jabs his sweet zone again. “Ahh,”

RK900 laughs at Gavin’s sudden incapability to iterate. “You never let me finish what I was going to say. I’m much better than Connor. Better at fighting, better at catching, better at interrogating… _Better at fucking_ ,” He breathes. “My censors have me come to the safe conclusion that _this_ ,” He thrusts again with the same brutal force into Gavin’s weak spot. “Is your cervix, detective.”

Gavin does not understand. All this talk about Connor, being better than Connor, and then undeniable pleasure searing him deliciously. Usually, he hurts whenever his cervix is played with, if at all. But this. This is entirely different, with RK900 hitting it with such precision. It is as if a flame is engulfing them both, roasting him and the android alive whilst having sex. It almost scares him.

“Fuck,” he is able to say through his constant, unchecked moans. “I can’t, RK900, no more. No more,”

“Hang on a little longer, Gavin,” huffs RK900.

The pace gets faster, rubbing Gavin’s front entrance raw. He imagines he will be sore afterward, swollen and bruised later. His insides are churning to butter, and he could not ask for anything better. It is _better than butter_.

RK900’s cock is perfect, striking Gavin at all the right angles. It sends a vibration through him that Gavin himself cannot quite explain. This is so different from all the hookups Gavin has had in the few months; it is rough and unfiltered and borderline selfish. It is perfect.

“Oh!” Gavin squeals as shapely incisors latch onto the back of his neck, biting there. The pain mixes with the pleasure and, soon, he is coming for a second time.

Tsunami waves of fulfilment crash over the man, drowning him in ecstasy. Gavin succumbs to his rapture, eyes seeing whole galaxies instead of stars. His mind is so high up that Cloud Nine is only a small speck in the distance of his titillating pleasure. He can hear nothing but his palpitating heartbeat, as if his ears are stuffed with cotton puffs.

Gavin is blinded by his orgasm, suspended until RK900 spills inside him with warm, thick fluid. He bunches his muscles taut, trying to milk the android for all he is worth. At last, it seems as if he is sated completely.

Both Gavin and RK900 sag to the floor, unable to keep their balance after their intense orgasms. They stay there, Gavin catching his breath while RK900’s LED flashes yellow, yellow, then a static blue. Gavin figures the android is doing a diagnosis or some shit on himself.

The detective has never felt this satisfied after impromptu sex, yet here he is. A thick substance begins to seep from his hole and onto the floor, of which Gavin can only conclude is RK900’s robo-semen. He shifts, feeling gross enough to slide his forefinger through the puddle to inspect it.

“Aw, this is fucking disgusting,” Gavin grimaces, looking at the fluid on his finger. It has a bluish tinge to it, most likely a thirium-based material. “I never told you to come _inside_ me.”

“But you aren’t exactly mad about it, either, according to your vitals,” is RK900’s smartass reply. Gavin will not admit it, but the android is right. Having someone come in him feels incredibly good; gives him a sense of accomplishment and purpose.

They dress in silence, clothes disheveled and sweaty from their hurried copulation. Gavin is surprised that no one stepped in on them. However, with the amount of noise they made, it could have been very obvious to any coworkers who needed to relieve their bladders. Gavin blushes; he is not exactly the quietest lover.

“Ready now?” he says when he has straightened his tie. He will not be like Connor the other day, unable to put himself together after sex.

“Yes,” RK900 smiles a grin full of confidence and ego. “And Gavin,” Gavin is already leaving the bathroom, but stops to poke his head in again. “I want to thank you.”

“Thank me for what?” Gavin scratches the back of his neck, only to realize that he is beginning to purple there from the bite RK900 gave him. He draws his hand back with a hiss.

Both detective and android continue out to the office area, where RK900, at last, continues his train of thought.

“I thank you,” he says precisely, enunciating every syllable. “I believe I have a clear understanding of the term ‘bromance’ now.”

What. The. Fuck.

Gavin thinks he might actually faint.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos if you would let a CyberLife android dick you down for the sake of "bromance".  
> Scream at me @ra9sthiccbicc on Twitter.


End file.
